


Les Mis as High School Marching Band

by DragonHorse12



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Band Fic, F/F, F/M, M/M, Marching Band, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pining, band bus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:34:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23208592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonHorse12/pseuds/DragonHorse12
Summary: Pretty self explanitory, dont you think?Our boys pine and are stupid, stuff goes on, but they are in a marching band. My friend told me to write this like 5 months ago, but i didn't until quarantine. yay.
Relationships: Bahorel (Les Misérables)/Original Character(s), Combeferre/Courfeyrac/Jean Prouvaire, Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta, Montparnasse/Jean Prouvaire, Éponine Thénardier/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Les Mis as High School Marching Band

"1, 2, check, up, set, push, and 1, 2..."

"Ow, fuck!"

"Bitch you hit me what are you saying ow for?" Grantaire asked, clutching his trumpet protectively.

"Who are you calling a bitch? I'll mess you up, just try me." The baritone said, holding her head.

"Oh yeah! Let's see. C'mon, square up! I’ll- hi Enjolras! Nothing to see here!"

"Stop fighting, you're slowing down rehearsal. Eponine, are you hurt?" The boy named Enjolras said authoritatively.

"A bit, because this dumbass can't do his visu-"

"That's enough. Ferre, come check her over. Grantaire?"

"Yes?"

"Learn your visuals. Now get back into places! We're doing this rep again." The band went back into their places as Eponine was walked off of the field. The one drum major on his podium raised his arms as Enjolras sprinted back to his podium and quickly climbed up. Grantaire rubbed his arm, shaking his head.

~~~

Grantaire placed down his water bottle and sighed. He pushed himself up so that he was standing and walked over to where Eponine sat. The mousy clarinet that always sat beside her suddenly vanished as Grantaire approached. Eponine slowly looked up at him once he was stood in front of her.

“What d’ya want?” she asked threateningly.

“I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I’m sorry for hurting you, I went the wrong way.” He said, looking down and shuffling his feet.

“Apology accepted. I’m just glad you didn’t set that monster on me.”

“Who, Bahorel? He was too busy laughing at me to even consider trying to fight, and either way he’d take your side.” Grantaire gratefully slid to the ground.

“I’m not sure he’d pick a side, he’d probably just go in, fists swinging. You know, ‘punch first, ask questions later’ style?” She said, turning to face him, grinning.

“Very true. Well I should be off now, by-“A loud ‘Tweet’ from a whistle rang through the small clearing, making the kids groan and start running back to the band field.

~~~

“Okay kids, it is now time for the reading of the nice notes. Now for you freshmen who haven’t experienced nice notes yet, anyone can write something on one of these index cards, and put it in this box, and it gets read out by the drum majors then given to the person it is about. These are anonymous. Now, let’s get started!” The band director, Mr. Valjean, said, clapping his hands. The three drum majors stepped up, holding a small stack of colourful index cards each.

“Okay, first up, ‘Feuilly is such a great example and so helpful.’ Good job Feuilly!” Enjolras said, handing a card to a dark-haired Sousa player in the front row. “Next is…” Grantaire closed his eyes and relaxed in the cool ac, not paying attention, until he heard, “…Grantaire, for being such a caring guy.” He bolted upright, shocked. Cautiously he stepped forward to receive his card. As he grasped the card his fingers brushed Enjolras’ as the blonde drum major leaned forward and quietly said, “Good job, Grantaire.” Grantaire mumbled something and turned around to go back to his seat, unable to shake the electric feeling buzzing through him. Once he was back in his seat, however, the look of amusement on Bahorel’s face popped the quiet bubble rising in him. “Dick.” He muttered, as Bahorel cracked up at the forlorn boy in front of him.

“R, if you grin any wider you’re going to start looking like Eponine’s little clarinet friend when he stares at Cosette.

“Kindly shut the fuck up ‘Rel.”

~~~

“Ok, we will now be playing ships and sailors, because the adults are tired of y’all. We all know how to play this as we played earlier in the week, so… Musichetta, if you will do the honour of calling for us?” The drum major named Courfeyrac said magnanimously. A dark-haired girl stepped up onto the stage of the auditorium, and began to call commands. After ten or so were called, most people were out except for Cosette, the mousy boy, the three drum majors, Bahorel, and, shockingly enough, Grantaire. Musichetta called out, “Lover’s Leap!” Grantaire turned, planning to jump into Bahorel’s arms like the self-preserving trumpet he is, but as he turned, he saw Enjolras, who looked surprised for a moment, but then his face turned to determination. Before Grantaire could react, Enjolras had leapt into his arms and had wrapped his arms around his neck. Grantaire looked around and there was Courfeyrac in Combferre’s arms and the boy in Cosette’s arms. Bahorel, left alone on the ground, looked around, then wolf whistled at Grantaire and Enjolras and walked off. Both boys blushed, and quickly dropped each other.

“Sorry.” Enjolras said, blushing, as he dropped his eyes to the floor.

“Oh it’s no problem.” Grantaire stuttered out, shockingly, as he suddenly couldn’t breathe, or think, at all.   
~~~  
“Why me! Why do I have to have a crush on him! Him! Enjolras, captain of the swim team, captain of dance marathon, helps run key club, drum major, 5.0 GPA, all state first chair clarinet twice in a row. He could never like me, the goddamn stoner kid who is high in most of my classes, had a 3.1 GPA last year, and had a B- in band, the class I had the highest grade in! The only club I do is art, and that’s just so I can tag buildings better! Why meeeeee!” Grantaire moaned into Bahorel’s shoulder once they were back at his house after practice.

“Dude, its fine. I mean, everyone’s had a crush on Enjolras, regardless of orientation. You just fall harder for people. Plus, I mean, Courf said he loves your art, apparently they drove past it and he couldn’t stop talking about it. And no one can be that shallow to only care about your grades, that’s stupid. Just chill R, you’ll be fine.” Bahorel patted his head, trying to soothe him. “Cookie?” Grantaire grabbed it and shoved the whole thing in his mouth.

“Andf heves even goining ve art clubf! I can’t efscape im!” Grantaire muttered through the mouthful of cookie crumbs.

“Maybe we should talk when your mouth isn’t full of cookie.”

“Oh fuc uff.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this, its my first writing on this site! If you have any criticism, it is much needed. Thank you!


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